


three small words are so big when they're for you

by ohjustpeachy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Photographer Steve Rogers, Pining Tony Stark, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustpeachy/pseuds/ohjustpeachy
Summary: “Steve! Hey,” Tony calls, almost breathlessly. He looks like an idiot, he’s sure of it, his hair's a mess and his backpack’s flopping off his shoulder and threatening to fall down his arm. He’d all but chased Steve Rogers across the courtyard and into the cafeteria, and for what, exactly? Just to say hi and moon at him because he was wearing the red shirt that makes his hair look extra blond and his blue eyes stand out?Tony can hear Rhodey laughing at him from across the school and mentally shushes him.Or, Tony is the popular football player with a massive crush, and Steve is the photographer for the school paper, oblivious to it all.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 54
Kudos: 372





	three small words are so big when they're for you

**Author's Note:**

> A high school au inspired by [ this tweet](https://twitter.com/omgjustpeachy/status/1308470592614604801?s=20)

“Steve! Hey,” Tony calls, almost breathlessly. He looks like an idiot, he’s sure of it, his hair's a mess and his backpack’s flopping off his shoulder and threatening to fall down his arm. He’d all but chased Steve Rogers across the courtyard and into the cafeteria, and for what, exactly? Just to say hi and moon at him because he was wearing the red shirt that makes his hair look extra blond and his blue eyes stand out? 

Tony can hear Rhodey laughing at him from across the school and mentally shushes him.

In front of him, Steve blinks in surprise before shooting him a crooked little smile. “Hi,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger. God, the glasses. Tony is really and truly done for. He hefts his bag up onto his shoulder and looks at Steve some more. _Say something, anything_ , he wills himself, but when he finally opens his mouth, Steve’s already talking. 

“Um, I’m supposed to go meet my friend Bucky? But it was, uh, good to talk to you, Tony,” Steve finishes, then hurries away through the throng of students and over to his friends. 

Tony groans, his disappointment mounting when he looks up to find not just Rhodey but Pepper, too, grinning at him from their usual table. He’d never hear the end of it now.

*

Steve wasn’t exactly _unpopular_ at school. He was just kind of...quiet. He had his small group of friends, and he didn’t play sports or go to parties; he kept to himself. _His smallish, perfectly built, glasses-wearing self._

Tony Stark, on the other hand, is probably the most well known kid in their class, possibly even the school, thanks to his famous last name, and yet he couldn’t get the attention of the one person he wanted it from most. It’s laughable, really, the plot of a teen romcom with a terrible soundtrack in the making. 

Which is why, when he bumps into Steve outside the school a week later, Tony is more than a little surprised.

“Hi,” Tony says, because when it comes to Steve, he’s good at this part, and this part only. 

“Tony, hey,” Steve says, his voice is soft but not entirely shy, and he smiles at Tony like he always does, because more than anything else, Steve Rogers is _nice_. It makes Tony’s palms sweat.

“Waiting for someone?” Tony manages to say. He knows Steve usually goes home with Bucky and Natasha and Sam, all of them piling into Bucky’s car like an exclusive club Tony can only dream of worming his way into. 

“If the late bus counts as _someone_ ,” Steve replies, rolling his eyes. “Bucky left early today and my phone was off so I didn’t realize until after the newspaper meeting, so...” He shrugs his slim shoulders, looking at Tony and then down at his shoes, his long eyelashes skimming his cheek, and for once, Tony’s mouth does its job. 

“I can give you a ride home. If you want. I mean, unless you like the bus, then...” He’s babbling, but it’s better than silence, right?

Steve does this adorable blinking thing, like he’s sizing Tony up and weighing his options, and then nods. “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Tony insists. “You’ll just have to tell me where I’m going. I’m parked over there...” Tony points, and Steve follows him to his car, waiting as Tony unlocks it and throws their bags into the backseat. 

“So,” Tony says, once they’re out of the school parking lot and on the road. “You work on the newspaper?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he says, “I mostly do the photography for it, but I’ve written some articles, too.”

“Oh,” Tony says, then, a beat later. “That’s really cool.” And it sounds almost sarcastic even to his own ears, but he really means it. Steve could tell him just about _anything_ and he’d think it was cool. God, he’s the worst at this. 

Steve looks at him. Tony can feel his gaze from the passenger seat, like he’s trying to decide if Tony was making fun of him. He must decide that he isn’t because he continues talking. “Yeah, it’s fun. I only joined because Natasha wanted company at first, but... I really like it. Oh, um, make a right up there on Lakeshore.”

Tony turns. “I ended up on the football team for that reason, so I get it,” he says, smiling wryly. “Rhodey _just wanted to see_ what it was all about. At least, that’s what he told me. Three years later and here we still are. I love it, though,” he adds. 

“You guys are having a good season,” Steve says, and Tony’s stomach flips. Had Steve been to any of the games? Seen him play? The idea would have been ludicrous up until a few minutes ago, but it would make sense for the photographer to go and take photos, if nothing else. Tony wills his brain to calm down, and makes a left when Steve tells him to. 

“We are. Knock on wood,” Tony says. 

They’re quiet for a few minutes, just the radio playing softly between them, and Steve telling Tony when to turn. It’s not an uncomfortable quiet, though, Tony realizes. It’s… _nice_.

“This is me,” Steve points, all too soon, at a house on the right side of the street, small and unassuming but nice. “Thanks for giving me a ride. I really didn’t feel like waiting in the cold.” Steve gives Tony another one of his small half-smiles before hopping out of the car with a little wave.

“See you tomorrow,” Tony says, but Steve is already halfway up his driveway.

*

“He doesn’t know I exist,” Tony moans a few days later. He and Rhodey had just passed Steve in the hallway, and Steve had smiled and given him a wave, nudging his glasses up his nose like always, before disappearing into the crowd of students.

“He was in your car last _week_. He literally just said hi! What more do you want from him? To know by osmosis that you’ve been half in love with him since freshman year?” Rhodey asks, exasperated. 

“I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m just being nice. I mean I _am_ being nice, but it’s more selfish than anything, because he’s so… _Steve._ Rhodey, because he does that blinking thing? You know? Like he’s adorably confused and taking it all in, and… His eyes look so big with the glasses...” 

Rhodey shakes his head, laughing. “Believe it or not, I don’t spend the day cataloging the movements of Steve Rogers.”

“You laugh,” Tony says testily. “But you and Pepper have been joined at the hip for two years now. Remember when you were in my shoes?”

“That’s different.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Help me, Rhodeybear, my best friend in the world, light of my life. _Please_.”

Rhodey sighs. “I have English with Barnes,” he says. 

Tony stomps a foot. “What! Why didn’t I know this!?”

Rhodey ignores him and continues. “Barnes is in my English class next period. I can try and talk to him, see if he knows anything about what Steve’s thinking.”

“I love you to the moon and back,” Tony says, throwing his arms around his friend. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” Rhodey says, shaking him off. “Please, save it for Steve.”

“One can only hope!”

*

The next time Tony sees Steve, it’s right before a football game, and he very nearly crashes into him. Steve’s hair is windblown, and he has the school camera on a strap around his neck, ready and waiting for the perfect shot. He looks perfect in a Shield High t-shirt and dark jeans, complete with a cardigan to keep him warm against the cool fall afternoon. He cannot possibly _not know_ how good he looks like this. 

“Oh,” Steve says, blinking up at Tony and smiling. “Hey, sorry about that.”

“My fault, I was on another planet,” Tony says. _Thinking about_ you _,_ he doesn’t add. “Don’t be sorry.” His heart is racing though, between the high stakes of the game, and his new found knowledge that Steve thinks Tony is, for the most part, just _humoring him_ with his attempts at friendship. In the end, Rhodey’s conversation with Bucky Barnes had made Tony feel about ten times worse about his prospects of ever being more than just casual friends with Steve. 

Steve shuffles his feet. “Um,” he says, “I should probably get out there...” he gestures to his camera and then at the field. “And you, too, right?”

Tony nods vigorously. “Right. Yes. Football and newspapers. Try and get my good side, okay?” he jokes, winking before he can stop himself. _Winking_ , god.

Steve laughs, though, a beautiful, musical sound if Tony’s ever heard one, and promises to do his best. 

*

They go on this way, Tony doing his best to be smooth and show Steve he isn’t just _humoring him_ by any means, and always coming up short. He does more babbling around Steve Rogers than he’s ever done in his life, even with his friends, even when he gets to talking about football plays, or robotics labs, or dark matter. 

It’s a disaster.

By the time Thanksgiving week rolls around, Tony’s exhausted. The football season is coming to an end, but college application season is in full swing, and he really, _really_ doesn't want to think about that right now. All Tony wants to do is go home and work on his latest project, a small robot he’s programmed to clean up around his room. The little guy apparently hates socks though, because he always leaves them on the floor, even when everything else is spotless. Tony’s lost in thought about possible bug fixes when 

he finds himself face to face with Steve on his way out the door at the end of the day.

Impossibly, Steve looks more rundown than Tony feels. 

Steve makes a valiant effort to look pleased to see him, but Tony can tell something’s just… _off_ about him. He’s pale, more pale than usual, even, his perfect Irish complexion drawn and tired looking, and his eyes are shadowed and red-rimmed, going perfectly with the pink of his nose. 

Tony’s heart gives an actual _pang_ looking at him. “Oh, hi, Steve. You look um…”

Steve’s eyes roll so hard it’s actually impressive. “I know,” he snaps. Then he sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he apologizes almost immediately and his voice is huskier than usual, like it’s an effort to speak, and Tony shrugs. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like… I mean. You always look _good_? But you just look less...like yourself. I mean, you just… you look tired,” Tony finishes, his face warming. 

Steve gives a wan smile. “I think there was something nice in there,” he says, rubbing at his face. 

“There definitely was,” Tony promises. “Do you...need a ride or something? I can drive you home, it’s no problem.”

Steve’s relief is palpable. “That would be great, actually,” he says. 

“Great, yeah, absolutely. I’m over here again. I think I remember the way to your house but let me know if I lead us astray,” Tony says with a smile. 

Steve’s quiet on the drive home, though, his eyes almost drooping shut a few times once the heat kicks in, and it’s all Tony can do not to stare at him. Even like this, pale and knocked out by whatever season cold plagued high school this time of year, Steve looks....pretty much perfect. 

By the time Tony parks his car outside Steve’s house, he’s just about asleep in the passenger seat, his glasses sliding precariously down his nose. Tony lays a careful hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Steve… we’re here,” he says quietly. The last thing he wants is to scare him, or worse, embarrass him. 

Steve blinks his eyes open, rubbing at his face in confusion before looking apologetically at Tony. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. God, it’s like a ten minute drive,” he says, shaking his head. “I guess I was more tired than I thought,” he says quietly. He sounds vaguely congested, his voice low and thick and tired enough that Tony wonders how he ended up here, wanting to do grown up things like make soup and offer to run to the pharmacy, just because it’s _Steve_.

It’s unfair, really, how sweet and vulnerable he looks sitting there like that. Tony’s overwhelmed with the urge to hug him, walk him to his door… _something_. Instead though, he squeezes Steve’s shoulder lightly before letting go. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says. “I could use a nap myself,” he adds, anything to make Steve relax. 

Steve nods. “Thanks again.”

“Of course. I hope you feel better,” Tony tells him, sincerely. “No one should be sick for Thanksgiving.”

“It’s true, but this happens every year,” Steve admits. “Anyway, it’s not so bad. My mom makes a ton of food, and it’s usually just us and my grandparents and occasionally Bucky and his mom, so,” he trails off, looking over at his house and smiling a little, softly. 

“Sounds nice,” Tony tells him, honestly. Far nicer than his own jam-packed holidays, which are more for appearances than anything else. 

“Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?” 

Tony hesitates. “Family stuff, lots of questions about the future,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s a whole ordeal honestly.” 

Steve winces. “Yikes.”

Tony smiles. “Exactly.”

By the time Steve grabs his backpack and phone and thanks Tony for the millionth time for driving him home, it feels like something might have shifted between them. At least, it feels that way to Tony, like Steve might _actually_ consider him a friend now. 

A guy could dream. 

*

By the time they go back to school the following Monday, Tony is mostly recovered from the grand inquisition that occurred over Thanksgiving break, and Steve, from the looks of it, has recovered from his cold. When Tony passes him by his locker early Monday morning, he can’t help but flash him a wide smile. 

“You’re looking better,” Tony says before he can think twice. His smile only grows when Steve rolls his eyes and brushes their shoulder together as he closes his locker. 

“Yeah, much, thanks for noticing,” Steve says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

“I always notice you,” Tony says, and it’s far too earnest for this hour of the morning, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, his face turns a little pink, and he falls into step with Tony like it’s something they do every day, walking each other to class. Tony’s so taken aback by this that he almost walks right by his first period class. Fury would _love_ that, but Tony doesn’t have the patience for Principal Coulson’s office today, so he stops, reluctantly. 

“This is me,” Tony says, jerking his head towards the door. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, nudging his glasses up, “talk to you later.” And just like that, with that stupid half smile, Steve sets off down the hallway. 

“Mr. Stark,” Mr. Fury says behind him, making him jump a foot. “Are you going to stand here smiling into the ether, or will you be joining us today?”

Tony blinks himself back to reality and joins them. 

Tony finds himself driving Steve home most afternoons now. And though he wonders what happened to Steve driving with Bucky and Sam, he’s not curious enough to bring it up and ruin whatever this new dynamic is. Not now, when Steve meets Tony at his locker, and is starting to get to know Rhodey and Pepper, even if he is on the quieter side when they’re all together. Now when he has Steve beside him in the passenger seat, plugging in his phone while they drive, sharing his favorite songs with Tony and asking what he likes in return, a give and take Tony looks forward to all day. 

It’s Rhodey who points out the change in Steve, says it _out loud_ and puts it into the universe so that Tony has to acknowledge it.

“He likes you,” Rhodey says with confidence. “I’m telling you, this is his way of making a move.”

 _Making a move? Steve?_ Tony hadn’t wanted to think about it, didn’t want to jinx whatever was going on between them, if he’s being honest with himself, but Steve _had_ been different ever since Thanksgiving. He’d come back after break still on the quiet side, but more… chatty, almost flirty with Tony in a way that made Tony feel as if a swarm of bees had taken up residence inside him. 

“No way,” Tony says, even though deep down he wants to believe him. 

“Come _on_ , you’re not this oblivious,” Rhodey sighs. “You’ve been into him for months, and now he’s showing interest, what’s the problem?”

And it’s not a problem, not exactly, it’s just that Steve Rogers is unlike anyone else in Tony’s life. Kind and funny and _gorgeous_ and he managed to make Tony feel more like himself than almost any of his friends, aside from Rhodey, of course. As much as Tony had flirted and pined and thought about Steve, now that there was the minute possibility of returned interest… he’s _scared_. 

“Not a problem,” Tony says. “It’s good. _Peachy_.” And it was. Or, it would be, as soon as Tony came up with a plan. 

*

Shield High has a winter formal every year, a kind of send off for the year right before winter break. Tony usually goes because his friends go, but he’d never actually _asked_ anyone to go. But it’s coming up in two weeks, and he’s decided it’s the perfect chance to finally really show Steve how he feels. He’ll ask him to the formal and if he says yes, well then, Tony will know he feels the same way, and if he says _no_ , then… Tony hasn’t really thought about that possibility, because it usually ended in an anxiety spiral that he didn’t have time for. 

Steve would say yes, right? _Right?_

 _“Yes_ , Tony, god, stop asking me!” Rhodey says, meaning Tony had been thinking out loud _again_. 

“Sorry, sorry, I just hope—”

“Hope I’ll be on time after class?” Steve asks, appearing at Tony’s side. The day’s over, and Steve is smiling at Tony from beside his locker door, and Rhodey smirks, walking backwards away from them. 

“Yep!” He calls, “Exactly that, Rogers!” 

“Ignore him, he’s the worst,” Tony huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Ready?” He looks at Steve’s adorably confused face, the winkle between that he gets between his eyebrows appearing, and Tony is, as ever, tempted to touch a finger to it and brush it away. 

“So,” Steve says, sliding into the car beside Tony. “What was Rhodey talking about earlier? It looked like you guys were fighting or something.”

Tony hadn’t started the car yet, and now he wishes he had. It’s too quiet, with the reality of what he’s about to do hanging between them. His stomach gives a flip. Now’s as good a time as any, right? He looks at Steve, and his blue eyes, and his blond hair flopping over his forehead, and…

“Not fighting, exactly,” Tony starts, sucking in a breath. “I just… I was wondering. I mean, I know you didn’t necessarily trust me for a while there? But I think we’ve gotten past that? It seems like it anyway, since here you are, in my car after school. Anyway. Rhodey thinks I should ask you to winter formal and I kind of agree with him and I’m actually terrified you’ll say no since you’re so much—”

Tony would have kept going, talking himself into a circle while Steve smiled and looked at him and pushed his glasses up his nose, but instead, Steve Rogers had leaned over and cut him off with a kiss. Stolen the words right from his mouth and made the move Tony had been too nervous to make for months. 

_Steve Rogers._

He’s smiling into the kiss, though it takes Tony some time to realize it, he’s so distracted by how unfairly _soft_ Steve’s mouth is, how his hand is drifting up and up into Tony’s hair, threading through the strands and pulling him in like he just can’t get close enough. 

Tony’s pretty sure he’ll _never_ be close enough to Steve. 

He can’t say who pulls away first. Part of Tony thinks it might have been him, because he really cannot keep his mouth shut in Steve’s presence, apparently. He stares at Steve, disbelieving and intending to say something, anything, until Steve smiles at him, and Tony’s heart flips. 

“Yes,” Steve says simply. Like it’s _easy_. “And I didn’t not trust you, by the way. I just… had to be sure you weren’t just… I don’t know. Being nice because I’m the small kid no one picks in gym or something. And they do pick me sometimes, for what it’s worth. I’m fast and small, so.” He smirks, and it’s the most perfect thing Tony’s ever seen, probably. 

“Well _I_ pick you for whatever _that’s_ worth,” Tony manages to say. “God, the number of times I basically chased you across the courtyard just to say _hi…”_ He trails off, smiling like he might never stop. 

“I did notice that.” Steve looks ridiculously pleased by the information, Tony can’t help but notice. His cheeks heat.

“What else did you notice?” 

“Lots of things,” Steve says, “That’s what I do, you know, the whole photography thing. I notice things.” His voice is teasing now, and Tony wants to know everything Steve’s noticed, every detail about these last few months getting to know each other, becoming friends. 

“Like?” 

But Steve’s looking at Tony’s lips, and giving him that ridiculous little smile, so when he just shakes his head and pulls Tony back in for another kiss, well, Tony can wait to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm omg-just-peachy on tumblr, come say hi!


End file.
